#stonathan tumblr

[messrsbyler]

will: i’m gay and in love with mike

jonathan: i love you, nothing could ever change that. i’m bisexual and in love with steve

will: i love you no matter what

jonathan: …

will: …

will: steve, really?

jonathan: you love mike so you are in NO POSITION TO-

[springfaekohaku]

Warning Shot

It was only supposed to be a warning shot.

Steve Harrington found himself staring face first into the barrel of a gun, held by none other than Nancy Wheeler — his girlfriend.

Said girlfriend was shouting at him, while Jonathan Byers stood at her side with matching bandages on their hands, the boy looking just as shocked as Steve. His voice echoing around them and getting lost in Nancy’s booming voice, a side he never saw from the girl that he fell head over heels with. Steve could only hold his hands up in a surrendering gesture, he was officially freaking out.

It was chaos. Steve didn’t even know what to think, he arrived with the intent to figure out what was going on with the two of them, Tommy and Carols voices taunting him in his head that something was going on. But this? He was being screamed at, demanding he’d leave and get out of the Byers residence, while Christmas lights were flickering on the wall with an alphabet drawn into it; he felt like he was having a fever dream.

Until the walls started to tremble and shake, Nancy’s voice got desperate and in a panic at Steve’s insistence to know what the hell was going on, he just wouldn’t leave. Jonathan’s panic at the escalation and the added pressure of Steve being in the midst of their plan, making everything go astray. Nancy had to do something to get Steve to leave, she felt herself building in pressure and like a rubber band; she snapped.

Just as the roof was being sunken in and the lights bursting, a loud BANG! rung through the living room and it all went silent…

Steve felt like his ears burst and could only hear ringing as he stared at Nancy. It was like things were in slow motion and his brain didn’t catch up to what just happened until he felt a burning sharp pain in his right hand and turned his head to see a hole in the middle of his palm. That’s when it all set in and realised what the fuck just happened.

He hears both Nancy’s and Jonathan’s voices.

“It was only supposed to be a warning shot. I-It, I…I aimed above I swear. I didn’t mean to.”

“What did you just do?! You shot him! You actually shot him, whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck—”

Steve finally felt everything coming back and clear as the ringing subsided, the adrenaline wearing off and he truly feels the agony and pain in his hand. There is a hole in his hand. In the middle of his palm.

There is a fucking hole in his hand.

And Nancy Wheeler, his girlfriend was the cause of it. Pretty sure it was Ex-Girlfriend now.

He hears the two teenagers shouting in panic and stress, while Steve checked out, only feeling blood pooling out from his wound down his arms and off his elbow. So he releases his hands from the air and cradles his injured hand with his other one, it hurt but his mind was somewhere else and everything seemed to collapse on itself. In his mind and currently in the Byers living room. However, he had a rude awakening as he felt Jonathan call out his name like trying not to spook a wild animal that’s been injured. His name was soft and gentle on his lips. Steve could see the desperation and panic in his eyes, like they were running out of time.

And they were. They were given a moment of peace until hell broke loose again. Only this time, the roof does sink in on itself, with a monster phasing through it and Steve was right under it. He could only look up and see what appears to be a claw, almost puncturing through the roof like it was made out of flesh and stretched skin.

Jonathan didn’t waste a second, discarding the initial plan to coax Steve into safety, they ran out of time; so he lunges for Steve. Grabbing his uninjured arm, tugging him and both jumping over the bear trap and to the room with Nancy ahead, opening the door for both boys and her last, locking it and standing guard.

Steve was walked to the bed and Jonathan sat him down. He had to find something to bandage Steve’s wound, which felt fruitless because there was no medical supplies in this room. So he figured the next best thing is a thin layered shirt that he can tear up and use as a makeshift bandage. It seemed like luck was on his side because he found exactly that. It was a disposable shirt too, it wouldn’t be missed, so he got to work. He had to act fast, he could hear the monster finally break through and its heavy body hit the living room floor. He kneels down in front of Steve and sees the other boy holding his injured hand and trembling. He coaches Steve through it and tells him it’s going to be okay, that it’ll hurt but that he’s here. Maybe it was also to get himself together too. He’s not leaving. As scared as he is, Jonathan knew the monster smelt their blood and now Steve’s fresh flesh wound, he didn’t want it to get any worse than it already is.

They had a plan. It’s all gone to shit and haywire.

Now, they just need to figure out how to trap the bastard and keep it from the others. They can still do this, they need to do this.

Jonathan looks at his handy work and deems is satisfactory for now and turns towards Nancy, meeting her eyes, he sees her guarded, her eyes were stormy and face littered in a ripple of emotions. But it seems like she also has the same conclusion, get it together and focus on the plan; no matter if it’s skewed and ruined.

So, she meets Jonathan’s gaze. She doesn’t even have it in her to look at Steve. Her boyfriend. The boy she shot.

They can still execute in the next phase. They just need Steve to be hidden in a secure place, away from danger.

Away from Nancy and her gun. Which was unsaid but it was spoken in her mind.

Nancy nods, standing guard and Jonathan nods in return. Standing up to guide Steve to a wardrobe, taking everything out and placing him in. Jonathan didn’t feel any resistance, he can clearly tell Steve is still in shock and internally dissociating. He notices that far-away look and how pliant he was with being essentially manhandled into the wooden wardrobe. Sitting him down, Jonathan can only offer a few words of reassurance and telling the older boy they’ll be back for him when it’s over. He wasn’t able to wait for a response as Nancy signals Jonathan and Steve feels the sense of safety and warmth leave his space. A feeling he’d never thought associating with Jonathan, it was new but he couldn’t help but feel his lingering touches, gentle yet firm.

He doesn’t even notice the wardrobe doors close and all he knows next is darkness and being left alone with his thoughts. He can’t help but think back to his and Jonathan’s spat, how Steve taunted him and called him names, said awful things about his family and yet…the younger boy grabbed him and took his hand into safety and out of danger without a second thought. He can’t help but also think about how in their fight, or well, Steve’s beat-down, how Jonathan being on top of him sparked a feeling that felt dangerous and unknown, yet familiar. How he straddled his hips and felt his hands on him and like moments ago, instead of his touch hurting, he was gentle and kind. He felt butterflies in his stomach. It made Steve and his entire world go into turmoil and it seems like he’s come to two conclusions tonight:

Monsters are real.

He’s pretty sure he’s having a Queer awakening.

He didn’t have time to dwell more in the closet, haha, because the sound of gunshots, the sound of like a banshee screeching, Nancy’s voice and Jonathan’s grunts could be heard; Steve had to get out.

So he does.

Steve breaks out of his hiding spot and opens the door, he rushes to the scene of commotion and sees Jonathan pinned down by the monster, which looked to be made out of flesh, its mouth opens like a flower with petals that has razor sharp teeth inside — all wanting to bite into Jonathan’s face as the boy tries to fight against it. Nancy fired shots but it seems to not deterrent the monster, not even bothering it and she seemed frozen and unsure what to do next.

Enter Steve who spots the nailed bat, so he leaps over the bear trap again, grabbing the nail bat and as the adrenaline fills his entire being once again; he doesn’t even feel the pain as he grips the bat in a death grip. He gets close enough and shouts at the ugly bastard. He gains its attention and it screeches at him, now smelling the fresh blood from Steve’s hand and detached itself from Jonathan. It stood and towered over Steve but Steve didn’t feel anything but anger, rage, the instinct to protect and keep them safe.

He twirls the bat to get a better grip and positions himself into a stance to fully swing at the monster, using all his strength and power, he hoped playing baseball for a while payed off.

So he swung, the monster staggering and Steve was hitting blow after blow and that’s when Nancy and Jonathan recoup to see Steve backing the hideous creature into the bear trap. It was working.

Holy shit, it was working.

Steve knew it fell into the trap as it screeched in a guttural scream that he hasn’t heard before.

That’s when he hears Jonathan’s voice shouting at him to stand back and he sees the boy throw a lit lighter into the gasoline which Steve didn’t even notice until it was engulfing the floor and racing towards the trap. Eventually engulfing the creature and the three teens watch as the creature screamed, tried to break free of the trap and even tears off its leg to escape.

Nancy was caught off guard at the unexpected movement and backed away and tugged Jonathan back with her. Eyes trained on it as it advances towards them but then Steve, Steve being the reckless idiot he was, uses the last of his strength and takes only a few strides and twists his body, elbows up and shoulders squared; his feet planted and he swings.

The nails pierced the monsters head before the rest of the bat followed, connecting with the head ripping it clean off its shoulders. The screeching stopped at its decapitation and only the sound of fire burning its flesh remain and the flicker of the lights finally stop and the room stopped feeling like it was going through an earthquake. They stare at the monsters corpse and sees it disintegrating under the flames, taking the heat with it and only leaving scorch marks behind.

Everything was still.

It was over.

Or was it?

TBC…

Next chapter —>

[wabylkl]

Stonathan!! (Reference from Pinterest)

[silverliing]

YOUR WILLOW BUTCH IS SILKJFLKDJLKJDFLJKDFLKDFJLKJDF giving me life. lesbyler and lesbyclair are my life support rn. 💕💕💕💕

not to be that person but *clasps my hands behind back and twirls my hair* sapphic stonathan? 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

👀 slides this under ur door

[babhard1]

Hi. This is Babka, I had to delete my previous account. You may have seen my works, I have collected the best of them in this post. I will be grateful for the repost 🤧🤧

[andy4yippee]

OH ALSO!!! your ranking of your fav ST ships? :D

YESS!!! ok here we go.

STRANGER THINGS MASTERLIST SHIP RANKINGS.

(includes brotp, otp, polyotp, familyotp.)

OTPS

Lumax - 10/10. meant for eachother!

elmax - 7/10. SOO cute, just i cant see it really happening.

byler - 1000/10. MY ONE TRUE OTP!!

mileven - 7/10. Cute, but its not my favorite. i liked them more in s1!

Duzie - 100/10. CUTE! nerd x nerd has me in a chokehold.

Jopper - 100/10. meant for eachother, again!

Jancy - 100/10. ADORABLE!!

Jargyle - 10/10. Cute!! the fanart is adorable. cant see it fr happening.

Stancy - 7/10. they were cute in s4- but I cant see them tgthr!

Henfield - 2/10. not my thing!

Hellcheer - 9/10. WOULD OF BEEN SO CUTE.

Boyce - 100/10. would of been adorable. poor bob.

Byerson - 5/10. cute but not my thing, cant see them together.

Edna - 0/10. why the fuck is this a thing HELP??

Henclair - 6/10. so cute, but max and lucas belong together.

Steddie - 8/10. Would of been super cute!

Wheelclair - 4/10. cant see it, would be cute.

Wheelson - 4/10. same thing as wheelerclair!

Stonathan - 2/10. cant see it at all.

Bancy - 7/10. this would of been my femslash OTP if she didn't fucking die.

Joyren - 5/10. I didn't even think about this till now..but imagine how cute this would be? obviously, wouldn't happen but....hear me out!

Rockie - 9/10. CUTE!! love them sm.

Ronance - 8/10. love it! its super cute.

BROTPS

Eddustin - 10000/10. MY BABIES!!

Dancy - 10/10. they were so cute in s2!

Stustin - 100/10. Love them in s3 especially.

Robeddie - 10/10 Gay Bestfriends.

Stobin - 100/10. The bestfriends ever

Madwise - 9/10. I love them sm.

Muwheeler - 10/10. Mike definitely had a stupid teenage crush on Eddie. obviously, this is a brotp and onesided because if it was requited it would be illegal....yuck.

FAMILYOTP

Elwill - 1000000/10. THE SIBLINGS EVERRR

Max's Moms (Nancy and Robin and Max) - 10/10. Love them.

Wheeler Siblings - 7/10. NEED TO TALK MORE WTF??

Sinclair Siblings - 10/10. SO funny together.

Magrove - 7/10. make me cry everywhere.

Byer Siblings - 9/10. Love them so much!

HenderFam - 10/10. Steve and Eddie are Dustins canon dads.

ByerHopperFamily - 10/10. My familyotp for life.

POLYOTP

Elumax - 8/10. this is so cute.

Stoner Lovers - 10/10. if they interacted, this would be my true polyotp.

Steddissy - 100/10. I CAN SEE THIS. if 2 of them weren't in graves. (one isn't even in a grave LMAOO) (forgive me)

Robins sapphic dream - 10/10. What the fuck is happening?? but I LIKE IT!

Gotta Love Nancy - 10/10. Again, what the FUCK? but i like it!

THATS ALL FOR NOW! :-)

[londondziban]

No one asked but I'm bored so here are my ratings of popular Stranger Things ships! (kind of a long post).

Disclaimer: Ship who you wanna ship. This is just for fun :)

Byler: 100/10, I love my boys. No notes.

Lumax: Also a 100/10. They're just so!!!

Elmax: 9/10. I love them with my whole heart but I'm a Lumax shipper first and foremost.

Elumax: 100000/10. Literal perfection. Elmax AND Lumax (and Hopclair, depending on how you view the ship dynamic)? Literally what more could you want?

Duzie: 7/10. They're cute and I really like Suzie. I wish we could've seen more of them, maybe Suzie will come back with a bigger role next season.

Henderhop: 6/10. Typically I HC El as a lesbian but I actually like this pairing. Definitely not a ship I'd die on but I enjoy interacting with the fan content.

Henderclair: 6/10. Listen, I love their dynamic. If I didn't HC Dustin as the token straight, I'd probably rate them higher. Platonically? Literally everything to me. Romantically? I'm not opposed.

Byclair: 8/10. I also like them a lot but I'm a die-hard Byler shipper. I do enjoy interacting with the fan content though!

Wheelclair: 7/10. They're silly and I love them but this is a particular dynamic I prefer platonic. I do HC that Mike had a crush on Lucas when they were younger though.

Mileven: 1/10. I'm just not a fan. I'm giving them a one solely cuz I enjoyed them in season 1 when I first watched the show in middle school, but I'm definitely not a fan of this ship at all. Platonically though?? Amazing.

Jancy: 10/10. I love them. I'm praying every day that the Duffers didn't completely fuck them up and that they'll be endgame.

Ronance: 9/10. I like them, they're cute. I interact with a lot of their fan content. Let's go lesbians.

Rovickie/Rockie: 7/10. I just don't know enough about Vickie yet to know if them as endgame is what I'm rooting for, but from what we've seen they're cute.

Stonathan: 10/10. I love them and I'm so excited for their interactions in season 5! They're the enemies to lovers.

Jargyle: 9/10. Love me some stoner boyfriends. They've definitely kissed before at least once.

Stancy: -10000/10. BOOOOOOO 🍅🍅🍅. They are not right for each other. Steve deserves someone who loves him and Nancy deserves someone she loves.

Stoncy: 3/10. If it's in the way that Steve and Jonathan are dating and Jonathan and Nancy are dating with Nancy and Steve being platonic, then sure. But if it's all three dating, nah. Steve and Nancy just don't work imo.

Buckingham (Chrissy x Robin): 8/10. I think this is considered a rare pair but I think they're adorable and I love the fan content around them.

Hellcheer: 5/10. Not my favorite but I have no issues with this ship. I see the vision of them as best friends mainly.

Steddie: 5/10. They're not bad and I interact with some of their fan content (some of their tiktok edits go hard), but they're just kind of okay, you know?

Jopper: 10/10. I love them. Been a Jopper fan since day one. They're so endgame.

If there's any other ships you want to know my opinion on, let me know!

(All fun and games here, y'all. Ship whatever you want)

[fruit-bowl-frontier]

Stonathan perchance???

Nobody come at me, before Eddie we had Johnathan.

NO ONE can convince me Johnathan’s not 20% gay somewhere in there.

(link attached)

S1 Johnathan and Steve were TERRIBLE couple of hormonal beta teenagers smh - but this scene right here.

Ain’t nothing straight about it.

MMMMMHMMM

[nerdylovetastemaker]

oat milk

"What all these people are doing is not  aggressive;  they are inventing new possibilities of pleasure  with strange parts of their body - through  the eroticization of the body."  

Steve was kneeling in the bathtub, a towel under his knees and another under his hands, his head turned as he craned his neck to watch Tommy working. The younger boy swirled the spoon around in the over-large bowl before tapping it against the rim and laying it on the counter. "You know it'll cool down a little once I get it in the bag, but is that good?" Tommy bent over next to the tub so Steve could slowly dip two fingers into the bowl, nodding once.

"It's fine."

Tommy nodded again, reaching out to stroke Steve's hair before standing back up and returning to the sink, where all of the equipment was spread out. The hook was already hanging from the shower curtain so Tommy could hang the bag as soon as it was full. "Go ahead and take the plug out, baby." His voice was soft, gentle. "And start with your fingers."

It was the gentlest of their "darker" interludes. No name-calling or hair pulling or punishments for noises of pain. It hurt enough on it's own, was degrading enough on it's own, Tommy didn't need to add anything to that.

Tommy felt a small tremor run through his body as he heard the soft moan coming from the bathtub, knew the other boy had just extracted the plug. He glanced up at the mirror, watching the boy set the glass plug on the edge of the tub next to the bottle of lubricant. Steve picked up the bottle, desperate to fill himself as he opened it, dripping some of the lubricant onto his fingers and rubbing them. It was cold to the initial touch, but warmed up as his fingers moved.

"You're so fucking hot like that, baby," Tommy purred, from the sink where the bag was nearly half full. "Now, go ahead."

Steve flushed warm from the compliment, his wrist sliding down along his waist, hipbone, the curve of his ass. And then his fingers were poised, resting against his entrance before pressing in. He was already loose from the plug so it was an easy intrusion. He didn't even bother with more lubricant before pressing a third finger in, moaning outright at the stretch. He started as he heard the click from Tommy hanging the bag. "Already?"

"Don't sound so disappointed," the boy chided softly. "You can keep your fingers in for a second." He almost added a soft 'slut', but stopped himself. Tommy leaned down, reaching for the bottle of lubricant, letting himself hover over Steve for a moment, his breath tickling the back of the boy's neck. "Just think about everything I'll do after," he whispered before straightening back up and slicking lube across the tip of the nozzle and his own fingers. "Okay."

Steve whined, but slowly pulled his fingers out anyway. He wasn't empty for longer than a few seconds, Tommy's fingers immediately sliding over his opening before pressing in, then pulling out to press in the tip of the nozzle. "Breathe," he murmured, fingers running down the boy's spine. "I'm going to now, okay?"

"Wait," Steve choked out.

"I'm going to now," Tommy repeated, voice a little harder this time. "You're fine." He kept his fingers running along the boy's spine as he loosened the clamp.

Steve bit his bottom lip, moaning as he felt the first rush of the warm oat milk sliding into his body. The beginning of the enema was always like Tommy's fingers were now, smooth and soft almost. The cramps would come soon enough, but Tommy's fingers would still be the same.

When they started, one of Steve's hands flew up to his stomach and Tommy stopped the flow without a word, letting the other boy massage his abdomen to ease the pain. "Just tell me."

"Okay," Steve whispered, his hand still on his stomach. Tommy loosed the clamp again and Steve felt the warmth continuing to enter his body. He continued to try to massage away the dull ache of the cramps as he felt his stomach slowly begin to expand from the amount of liquid he'd taken. "Stop," he choked out again. He wasn't supposed to ask how much, but he was desperate to know. He'd felt like he'd taken half already, but he knew it was probably more like a quarter of the bag. "Bren?" he asked, voice close to cracking. "I-I . . . Tommy." His voice was weak.

"You're doing great, baby." The boy leaned down, letting soft kisses feather along Steve's lower back. "So good."

The tears were starting to build up. Steve could feel them in his chest, waiting there, another ache in his body. "I don't . . . I . . ." He let his head fall forward, trying to slow his breathing, trying to focus on Tommy's fingers instead of the liquid inside him. "Okay," he whispered,voice cracking as the first tears slid down his cheeks.

The flow continued and Tommy slowed the flow without a say so after five minutes or so. "You're taking it so well, Stevie," he cooed. "You've got half." He usually didn't tell Steve how much he'd taken, but it had been awhile since they'd done this and he didn't want the boy to break before he managed to get both quarts in.

"Half?" Steve asked, voice timid, as if he wasn't sure if he should be relieved or disconcerted.

"Mhmmm." Tommy leaned forward, letting his lips kiss the back of Steve's neck, then between the boy's shoulder blades. "Are you ready for more?" When Steve hesitated, Tommy squeezed his hip. "You can take it, baby. You've done this before."

Steve's head nodded a fraction of an inch, his breathing already labored. He gave a small squeak as the oat milk started slipping into his body again. "Please, please, I can't." He shook his head, the tears coming out for real now. Tommy clamped the nozzle again. "I can't, Bren, please. I . . . I need to . . . please."

The younger boy reached his hand down to Steve's stomach, the curve of a belly that wasn't there usually. "I know you can take this," he said, voice low but not angry or disappointed. "I know you can, Stevie." He let their fingertips brush. "But I won't make you," he added. "It's up to you."

Steve hated that. It would have been so much easier to go along with it if Tommy hadn't give him the choice. Now it was up to him to decide if he wanted to be selfish and disappoint his boyfriend and not get rewarded or just go along with it and deal with the pain. "I'll try," he mumbled weakly, squeezing his eyes shit and biting his bottom lip between his teeth as he felt the flow again.

Tommy slipped his hand down Steve's stomach to wrap around his cock, gently stroking, trying to turn the whimpers that the older boy was now making into moans. "So good, baby," he kept whispering over and over. "You're taking it so good."

"H-Hurts," Steve choked out. "Break?"

Tommy locked the clamp again, letting Steve rub at his stomach and try to catch his breath. "It's almost all in," he said gently, still stroking the other boy's erection. "Just a little bit more. I know you can take it, Stevie."

"How much?"

The question hung heavy in the air for a moment. Steve wasn't supposed to ask and he knew it, but he also knew Tommy never spanked him or punished him during an enema, so the worst possibility was simply that the other boy wouldn't tell him.

"Probably four ounces," Tommy answered finally. "I'm going to start it again, okay? You can take this all in one go."

Steve nodded, gritting his teeth and counting silently in his head, hoping it wouldn't take longer than a minute to finish. He was only a few seconds over when the flow stop and Tommy planted a kiss to the small of Steve's back. "I'm going to switch it out for the plug, okay? Keep it in."

Steve tightened his muscles, his toes curling as he did so. It hurt, tensing up along with the dull ache in his abdomen. Even with all his tightening, a little bit of the oat milk/water mixture escaped, sliding down the inside of his thigh. Then the plug was in and he could relax his muscles, but only somewhat. Tommy picked up a washcloth and wiped at the liquid that had slid down Steve's skin.

It wouldn't be too long, Steve knew, but it always seemed an eternity. Five minutes or ten minutes could feel like hours. Tommy's fingers slid up Steve's back until they were twisted, gently, in his hair. "I can't wait to get you on the bed," he said thickly, voice low and gravely. "Gonna shove my tongue in you so deep, baby."

Steve moaned outright, despite the dull pain in his muscles and stomach. It was a low moan, soft, but a moan nonetheless, and Tommy smiled at the sound. "Is that what you want?" the younger boy continued in the same tone. "You want my tongue in you, want me fucking your ass with my mouth? You're going to taste so fucking good, baby." His fingers tightened slightly in Steve's hair. Not enough to cause any pain, just enough to make the boy gasp, then moan again. "Then I'll fuck you. So hard, baby, so God damn hard. So deep inside you. And then you'll take my come in your pretty mouth."

Steve was whimpering, his hips moving ever so slightly, squirming. "P-Please?" he choked out. "Please?" He was begging for release. He knew it hadn't been long enough, but if Tommy kept it up, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold it in.

"I think you can hold it for another couple of minutes." But Tommy let go of Steve's hair and sat back slightly, just letting his hands run slowly up the boy's sides. The older boy was quiet, just a few whimpers leaving his mouth, but still squirming. Tommy let his hands slip lower until he was firmly squeezing Steve's ass in both hands. "Almost, baby. Almost."

There was another minute or so, Tommy's fingers skimming over the curve of Steve's cheeks and the older boy trying not to lose anything, trying to keep his muscles tensed just enough. "Okay." Tommy stood up, slowly, kissing Steve on the back of the neck before stepping out of the tub. "Slowly," he warned the boy. "Don't lose anything, okay?" He held his hands out, letting Steve take them as he stood and gingerly climbed out of the tub.

Tommy lifted up the lid of the toilet seat and helped Steve to sit. This was always when Steve started to cry again. He hated it, hated how Tommy was there for the release. So humiliating, worse than threats of letting Spencer watch or having Pete fuck him that one time while Tommy took Polaroids. "Please, just . . . I can," Steve said. "I'm fine. I can."

Tommy looked stern, frowning, shaking his head slightly. "Stop."

Steve cried harder, bringing his hands up to push at Tommy when the boy moved closer, but too submissive to actually to do it as the boy reached between his legs, fingers closing around the end of the plug. "Please," Steve whispered again. "Please, Bren."

The boy ignored him. "Don't let it go until I tell you to." He let Steve's face fall into his shoulder. The boy was shaking from his choked sobs as Tommy slowly pulled the plug out. He set it on the counter next to the bowl he had mixed the oat milk and water in. One arm came up around Steve. Despite his tears, the boy was still clenching, tighter than probably necessary. "Okay, go ahead."

Steve shook his head. "No." He cried harder when Tommy pressed his lips against the boy's temple. "Please."

"Steve. Now."

The boy was still crying, clinging desperately to Tommy as the first drops of the mixture began to slip out. And then, like always, he realized he really had no choice and just let go, sobbing harder as he heard the liquid falling into the toilet. For Tommy's part, he just held the boy, fingers running down his back, cooing soft sentiments to him. "Good boy, good job, Stevie."

Finally the noises slowed and Tommy took a step back, letting Steve wipe and flush the toilet. They both washed their hands in the sink and Steve blew his nose. "I'm sorry," he whispered, refusing to look at Tommy. "I . . . I didn't mean to . . . I know you won't hurt me."

Tommy's cool fingers, still slightly wet from the water, slid under Steve's chin, tilting the boy's face up to meet his eyes. "Thank you," he returned, leaning in and kissing him, soft at first, then harder, tongue slipping in. "Bed now," he added, unable to contain his smile as he felt Steve's lips curve upward against his.

They walked out to the hotel bedroom area and Tommy nodded silently, indicating Steve should assume the position on the bed. "Back or . . . or knees?"

"Knees if they're not too sore."

Steve would take a lot more than sore knees for a rimjob, as he'd clearly demonstrated, so Tommy nodded his approval as the boy got on all fours on the bed. Steve kept his head facing forward, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder and watch Tommy. The younger boy loved that, how he didn't have to order the boy do it. Steve obeyed the unspoken command of his own accord.

The bed sunk down as Tommy knelt behind Steve, hands squeezing the boy's hips. Tommy leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Steve's entrance, smiling when he heard the moan. His mouth opened, tongue slipping out, licking in broad, even strokes, knowing it would do nothing but tease Steve, torturing him. And, truthfully, it was all Steve could do to keep from pressing his ass back on Tommy's face while begging 'more more more'.

Tommy sat up and leaned forward, pressing two fingers to Steve's lips. The boy sucked them into his mouth without a word, his tongue sliding around the digits, trying not to get overeager, trying not to just beg Tommy to fuck him and start grinding his hips into the bed. When Tommy pulled his fingers from the boy's mouth, he leaned in for the kiss, smiling as he swallowed the moan from the intrusion of his fingers entering Steve's hole while they were still kissing.

Then his mouth was gone and Steve's fingers twisted in the bed sheets knowing what was coming, the muscles in his body tensing in anticipation. Tommy's fingers pulled slowly, evenly, opening Steve up just enough to slip his tongue in, licking around the edge of Steve's entrance. He licked over his own fingers as he slowly added another digit from each hand, pulling Steve more open, exposing him more. His tongue slipped in deeper and Steve tried so hard not to push his ass back on Tommy's face.

The younger boy's tongue started dipping in and out, slow and first, then quicker. Steve was moaning, head thrown back, hips barely rocking. Tommy pulled his tongue out and his fingers, letting his lips press against the hole that was still open to the air. He began to suck and Steve let out a stream of expletives that Tommy had never heard before. He let up on the pressure, his tongue slipping back inside once more, teasing, pulling out to trace around the inside.

"Fuck me?" Steve asked, voice high-pitched and uncertain.

Tommy pulled off almost immediately, but didn't straighten up yet, pressing two fingers into Steve abruptly, smirking at the boy's gasp. He slowly twisted them. "You want me to fuck you?" he asked as if he hadn't heard, voice casual.

"Please, Tommy," the older boy returned desperately, pressing back against the fingers, his head falling into the pillows as he collapsed on his arms, support following to his elbows.

The fingers slipped out and Tommy helped turned Steve to his back, kissing him softly on the mouth, enjoying Steve's tongue probing his mouth curiously, searching for the taste. He pulled away after a moment and the older boy gave an airy sort of sigh. Then he was between Steve's legs, bending them at the knee and separating them, settling between the thighs before he pushed in, no lubricant and no warning.

Steve made a low noise in the back of his throat at the burn, the stretch. He'd been waiting for this. Tommy hadn't fucked him for a week, not properly. Toys and fingers and a fist, but not this. So simple, just them. Nothing artificial. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's neck, leaning up to kiss his neck. They looked like any other couple just then, he mused. No one would have been able to look at this scene and guess that Steve had just been given a two quart enema or that the other day he'd been made to stand in the corner for an hour after Tommy had spanked him fifty times with a hairbrush.

Tommy could tell Steve was thinking and he angled his hips, shoving in roughly. When Steve's eyes popped open even wider and he let out the tiny squeak, he knew he'd found the spot. All semblance of thought seemed to evaporate from Steve's features as he just gave in and starting rocking against Tommy's hips, moaning. He reached for his boyfriend's hand, pressing the palm against his throat. "Please," he whispered.

Tommy didn't need to be told twice, squeezing down on Steve's neck, releasing after a moment to let him gasp for breath. Then his hand tightened again and they repeated the pattern until his boyfriend started shaking his head, not wanting to use the safe word, but wanting Tommy to know he'd had enough. His hand fisted in Steve's hair then, squeezing tight enough to hurt, but not hard enough to pull the hair out. "Touch yourself," Tommy breathed.

Steve obeyed immediately, one of his hands falling from Tommy's neck to slip between them, wrapping around the base of his cock, stroking in a slow rhythm that contrasted with the thrusts. He didn't want to come yet, but he knew he didn't have a choice anyway. He'd come when Tommy told him. That was the rule.

"Faster," Tommy growled, shifting his weight so he could press in deeper. "I want you close, Stevie. Tell me when you're close."

The boy nodded, quickening the speed of wrist obediently, letting his eyes shut for a moment before he opened them back up. Tommy liked to watch him, said he could see Steve melt through his eyes when they were in bed. He felt the hand tighten in his hair slightly and he stopped moving. "Close," he choked out.

Tommy smiled, letting Steve wonder if he was going to have to hold it, have to wait, have to worry if he could. But it was late and they had to be up in six hours. "When you feel me come, you can," he said, nipping Steve's bottom lip between his teeth. The thrusts got impossibly harder after that, but only for a moment.

Tommy bit the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling as he felt himself explode and then Steve's wrist was flying as he moaned, low and whorish. Tommy could feel Steve's come hit his stomach as the older boy started swearing, his ass clenching down on Tommy's cock as his orgasm tore through him, leaving him breathless and gasping for air.

Steve collapsed prematurely, still feeling his orgasm rocking through him, but unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to think. And then he felt Tommy pull out, leaving him empty and loose. He whimpered at the loss, turning and pressing his face into the boy's chest as he laid down beside Steve in the bed.

Tommy's arms came up, feeling Steve's body trembling. "Baby, baby," he murmured. "Shhh. It's all right." He kissed the boy's temple, fingertips gently massaging feeling back into Steve's muscles. "We're going to sleep now, okay? Early morning."

Steve whimpered, nodding, wondering if he'd be able to walk properly the next day. "Brenny?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Ry." Tommy waited until he'd stopped shaking before he got up to turn out the lights and set the alarm on his phone. Then he crawled back into bed and held Stuntil he fall asleep before he got up to clean the bathroom and put the equipment back in their suitcase. He was only going to be running on two hours of sleep the next day, but it had been worth it.

ao3 link

[messrsbyler]

just jonathan in s5 having to team up with steve and in the middle of it all learning that the camera was from steve all along. i’m not asking for much here, am i?

[springfaekohaku]

Warning Shot II

Ch1 Ch2

Steve!

Hey, hey — Steve! Stay awake…nonono keep your eyes open!

Please, stay with me, don’t…

…you’re gonna be okay…

Steve felt himself come to, his body felt heavy and like his eyelids were glued together. His lips felt chapped, his throat dry and he felt so groggy, but his brain was finally catching up and the urge to open his eyes grew.

So, he opened them to be greeted with fluorescent lights, a constant ringing sound in his right ear and the strong throbbing in his head, with so much onslaught of feelings and emotions; he felt overstimulated. His face hurt all over and his left eye was squinting, not fully opened. The lights were making this sound and he could feel the drumming of his heartbeat, beeping sounds repeating over and over again, he was nauseous to it all and felt like throwing up. But, he didn’t, he wasn’t going to do that because as a child, he always had a fear of throwing up and he wasn’t going to do that wherever he was. He felt dazed, confused and wait…

Is that a hand?

Steve blinked again and turned his head to the left to find a hand grabbing his uninjured hand, then he followed it to find a huge mass of hair on the side of his bed that belonged to none other than Jonathan Byers.

The young boy couldn’t believe it, Jonathan was resting on his bedside and he felt like his head was exploding. Maybe this all was a dream, he was going to wake up and he’ll be in his bed instead, with his ugly wallpaper his mother decorated without his input and trophies that amounted to nothing. He’ll be greeted to no one and in a soulless room in an empty house.

His thoughts of inner turmoil and disbelief end with a throbbing and burning sensation of his right hand, he hisses and shuffles in discomfort, not wanting to disturb Jonathan who was resting beside him but ultimately doing it anyways. He felt a bit guilty and bad for it but his heart flutters with the younger boys presence, he felt comforted by how after everything, he had someone to wake up to for once. Whenever he was injured or sick as a child, his parents would never stay or be there when he woke up, he never had that kind of affection or love. His Nanny that his mother and father couldn’t he assed to do the same even when he’d plead to her, to stay and be there when he woke up. No bedtime stories, no doting after his injures when he’d get hurt and be reckless on purpose because all he wanted was their love and attention. Sprained ankles, busted knees, he even recalls playing basketball with Tommy in middle school and falling, resulting in his first ever concussion. No supervision, no worried parents, just his Coach telling him what to do and his parents assuring the older man in empty promises and false lies that they’ll look after him.

But here Jonathan was. In all his glory, with a matching bandage around his hand.

And he was waking up.

Steve watched as Jonathan gained consciousness and saw his hand curled around his instinctively, like with no thought to it. He felt those damned butterflies again.

Jonathan lifted his head, he looked so tired and dazed, being hunched over in the chair and resting like that surely couldn’t be comfortable at all. The older boy watches mutely, his right hand demanding for relief to the pain and his head thundering in rows of throbs, pressing into his eyeballs, but he silently observes. Jonathan doesn’t even notice until Steve squeezes his hand and just like that, Jonathan was wide awake and sobered up in record time; eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Steve! Y-You’re awake!” Jonathan states. His volume was a bit too loud for Steve, the brunettes faced pinched in distaste and Jonathan instantly catches on; internally fighting himself. “I’m sorry. I’ll whisper for now, is that okay?”

Steve gave him another squeeze, he was forgiven. He attempts somewhat of a smile that felt like he was grimacing, but Jonathan nodded, smiling back.

“I’m going to call in the nurse okay? Let them know you’re awake and ask them if they can give you some of the good stuff. I can see that you’re in pain — I’ll be right back.”

Steve didn’t have time to react as he watched Jonathan softly pat his hand and depart from his bedside, getting up and making his way to the door and outside into the hallway. That was when Steve realised only now that he was in the hospital. It dawned on him so suddenly that he was hurt, not just, scrapes or bruises or even a broken nose — no…he was…

He was shot.

Oh God, he was shot and Nancy was the one who pulled the trigger.

He felt himself spiralling as the events of that nightmare of a night came flooding back to him and the last moments before he lost consciousness what Jonathans voice begging him to stay awake and calling out his name. The other worldly inner dimensional monster, the Christmas lights and living room lights flickering and bursting, the roof sinking in as its claw reaching for Steve. Seeing his Ex-Girlfriend aiming a gun at him, finding matching bandages on her and Jonathan’s hands, a nail-bat, Jonathan being so gentle and soft with him, sending him into a Queer panic and stepping into the fray to tap the ugly bastard into a bear trap and set it on fire. Steve beheading said creature and the rest…was nothing.

He just wanted to apologise.

These thoughts, not necessarily in order where hitting Steve like a truck. He didn’t even realise he was sending himself into a panic attack as Nurses and Doctors rushed their way in, calling out orders, turning the bright harsh lights off and closing the curtain to his left to drown out the sunlight, his faintly hears his heart monitor going crazy and his bones itching, his skin too tight and body shaking; his breaths were getting harsher and less oxygen was getting into his lungs. He was frantic and the sounds where making him feel like everything was too much, it was too much, fuck.

The last thing he heard was the voices and bodies of white coats pacing around his bed and seeing Jonathan standing out in the corner of the room looking at him in concern.

Then it all went black.

The next time Steve came through was not as slow or nice. He woke up with a gasp, his eyes bugged open and wide, struggling to get up, a voice close to his left side trying to sooth him and calm is sudden awakening.

Only, this time, he was met with Jonathan and Jim Hopper. Jonathan sees Steve’s want to get up and decides to help him prop himself in a seating position, then grabbing the bed post to angle it upright so Steve can lean back in a relaxed posture. Not wanting the older boy to injure himself further or go into another panic attack. Steve struggling to talk and coming out in dry croaks, Jonathan reaches for the glass of water and angles the straw to his mouth. The older boy grateful for the cold clear liquid going down his throat, it felt like bliss.

Jim can only watch the two boys in astound amusement and fondness.

He remembers not only long ago having the both of them in the back of his police vehicle, seeing Steve Harrington’s face busted in and Jonathan Byers without a scratch on him. Knowing that they had a fight — to his surprise, Steve denied any charges against the older Byers boy and explained how it was his fault anyways for pushing the other to snap; while his brother was missing and his mother seemingly going insane. Which he later learned and figured out for himself that was not the case at all. In fact, she was right and Jim needed to help. He needed to get his head out of his ass and be the Chief that this town needs, because as cursed as Hawkins is, it was his home and the people in it, it was his duty and moral obligation to serve and protect. Not only that, but he couldn’t bare to see another parent loose a child, especially not when there is a chance to save them and bring them back home.

He watches as Jonathan takes Steves hand in his own, rubbing circles on the back of his hand and whispering words of reassurance and trying to bring some kind of comfort. He sees Steve finally relax in what seemed in years, like he was waiting for someone to comfort him and be there for him. Something Jim hasn’t been doing. The man has had instances of reports of the Harrington boy throwing huge parties whilst his parents where absent and on work trips…and Jim would always be there to break it up and give him warnings each and every time. He stood there and watched, knowing his parents since high school. Knowing he left Steve with such people. He wished he was more attentive, more supportive and less absent throughout the boys life, the boy was practically screaming on the inside for anyone, anyone, to see through his act and show him that there are people who care about him.

Who’d love and want him.

It’s been a hell of a week and seeing Will and Steve in these hospital beds reminded him too much of Sara. His dear Sara.

Seeing these kids in these beds, even Steve being as tall as he is; he looked so small.

It reminded him that these are just kids. Steve may act big, like everything is normal and nothing could get to him. But it seems like that came to an abrupt halt when everything went upside down and witnessing in real-time Steves ‘King Steve’ persona crumble. Powell even noticed less parties at the Harrington residence, Flo even talked about no more calls being made and despite the call of the boys fight; Jim sees change.

So, the next best thing he can do is call Doctor Owens in.

Now comes the hard part.

Doctor Owens walks in with an air of authority and aloofness around him, with nurses behind him and the surgeon who worked on Steve’s hand.

Jim walks behind them and makes his way near Jonathan as the rest walks to Steve’s right-hand bedside. Jonathan, by Steve’s surprise holds his hand within their presence, firm and with no sense of letting go.

The three waited in baited breath.

“Mr.Harrington, nice to see you awake.” Dr Owens starts, holding the boys chart and smiling. Turning his head towards him and the new people in his room, Steve couldn’t help but think how goofy and weird this man is. He didn’t even care of the open show of affection of handholding they were doing.

“Just, Steve is fine. Please.” Steve replies.

Dr Owens smile broadens and nods in understanding.

“Right. Well, I got your chart here and now that you’re awake, you were quite in-and-out of it and I’m sure you don’t remember it. Now, we’d like to talk about your state of being and I’m sure you’re anxious to know about your right hand there.”

Steve blinks and — yeah, he wants to know, so he nods.

“So, let’s start with the small stuff and then we’ll work our way up to your hand?”

Steve nods again for him to continue. He won’t lie, he feels a bit anxious but he takes a deep breath anyways and exhales.

“Okay, let’s start with your superficial wounds. Some minor abrasions, like cuts and grazes. Nothing too bad. Now, your head. I was told by Jim here that you suffered a Grade 1 concussion before this all started, which I was also told why your face has minor injuries such as your split lip, nose — which isn’t broken, your eye is swollen but lemme just take a quick look now. But also, Jonathan here explained dhow after the fight with the Demogorgan, you passed out and fell to the floor, Which induced another concussion, he tried to keep you awake but you fell unconscious quickly, Grade 2. ” The doctor reads out and explains in a no nonsense manner but his tone soft. He reaches for his pockets and pulls out his torch, now closer to the bed, he leans across from Steve and does a normal eye checkup. Steve’s eyes flinch at the light glaring into his, no matter how less bright it was, he was told to close his left eye, his right eye was still swollen and he could only see blurred lines.

Dr Owens does what he could for the time being and continues where he left off, “Can you see anything at all?”

In which Steve nods and describes his vision blurry but not so bad. Next, his ears were also checked out due to the concussions; which he found the ringing in his right ear never dissipated. As he explained further and telling the truth that he actually started to notice it after the fight with Jonathan. In which Jonathan bows his head in shame but Steve turns to him and reassures him he didn’t hold it against him.

Dr Owen gained their attention again and resumes, “Okay, we’ll have to schedule a hearing test as well as an optometrist appointment later on. Now, onto the news I’m sure you’re wanting to hear most.”

Steve feels like a dowse of cold water is dumped onto him, he would’ve rather been shot in the foot. This news would tell him his fate, his future and how things will play out.

“Regarding your hand, I’ll let the surgeon take it from here. Dr Sheffur?”

Dr Owens parted and gave room for Dr Sheffur to take his place; he had Steve’s undivided attention.

“The surgery went well. As you may know, Hawkins isn’t equipped with specialists and doctors like those in the city. We are limited here and as I have handled gunshot wounds, operating on a gunshot wound in which the cartridge exploded, which I am sure you didn’t realise it’s true damage until later. Adrenaline must’ve been pumping and clouding your pain, I heard from your friend Jonathan here that despite the pain and wound; you handled a bat and gripped it tight. Which meant that your nerves must’ve been working due to pure adrenaline. Possibly, you didn’t even feel a thing.”

Dr Shaffur pauses to let the information sink in, “Do you want me to continue? Or take a break?”

Steve shakes his head and feel himself go a bit dizzy because of it but regains his composure. “Lay it down on me doc…” He tries so hard to play it off but inside, he’s internally vibrating out his skin. He even hears the heart monitor give away his poor attempt at an act. But no one calls him out for it or shows they saw through him.

Dr Shaffur coughed into his hand, clearing his throat and swallows, despite being the bearer of bad and good news; it never gets easy to tell patients the news of their conditions. Not when it’s their worst fears or nightmares come true.

In which he was the Sandman and he was going to give Steve the worst news and turn his nightmares into reality. He has been blamed so many times, on patients who he couldn’t save and despite all the hard effort and the countless lives he does save…the ones he does and ones that leave permanent damage hurt him.

“Your hand has suffered from nerve damage because of the cartridge explosion, it has left a gaping wound. Due to the blood loss of your hand, we had to cut up supply of blood to save it. Sadly, there will not be an 100% recovery for it, your muscles will need time to regrow and the bone in your palm will regrow to some extent but it will not regrow fully. We tried a surgical repair to suture the wound, but due to delayed treatment because of your situation, it has to also heal by a secondary intention. Natures Wound Filler. Your DNA will try to build a complete copy of the body if it is present with a nucleus but the skin and tissue that will regrow won’t be as tough as your original tissue. Due to the use of your hand after and I am sure your friend also tried his best to patch you up in a desperate time — a crucial time.

There are many tendons, nerves, muscles that are tightly packed into our hands…in this case, it hit a lot of them. In your case, I am saddened to say we weren’t able to make out the best outcome for your hand. There was nothing more I could do, the damage was too much and what I can say for the future of your hand won’t ever fully recover or of use. I’d also mention the Chronic Pain that’ll come with it. We can appoint you to a Physical Therapist to see if we can regain any movement and try. Any questions or should I let you and others take some time to ingest all of this?”

When Dr Shaffur finished, it was dead silent and it was like Jim’s toothpick in his mouth could drop and they’d hear it. Steve was trying his best to soak everything in and the more the Dr talked about his surgery and outcome for his hand, the more he felt like sinking into the bed — the urge to disappear was immense. He was speechless,

Steve had to use his hands, both hands, he plays basketball with them, he swims with them, he is right handed and depends on his hand for so many things.

Just like that, he felt his dream slipping away, he couldn’t even fall back on a scholarship with his basketball career, say goodbye to that and swimming championships. His parents would be furious with him, the disappointment in their eyes he could see plain as day, not because their kid got hurt but because of the hospital bills and taking them away from their business trip; not to mention that their kid couldn’t even do what he was only good at. Steve can admit, he loves sports. It was the only thing he excelled at and naturally, he took the chance to do anything to make his Dad and Mother proud. However, as time went on, he fell in love with it. Basketball offered him the adrenaline on the court, he looses himself and relishes in the sportsmanship, he enjoyed it even more because he had Tommy on the team. His best friend. Or, ex-best friend. Wow, he has a lot of past friends with history now. Swimming offered him the cold water, that parts like his body was made for the water, gliding through it seamlessly, it freed his mind and he felt at home. Like the pool in his backyard. It was the only thing that ever felt inviting and his in that damn house. His parents never even use it, only to show off.

He faintly hears Jim’s deep voice and Jonathan’s hand grasp tighter.

What use will he be now?

He looks down at his right hand and never felt so empty.

It wasn’t until he felt hands clasp his face on both sides and is turned to see Jonathan’s face. It was only the two of them in the room now and Steve didn’t even realise tears streaking down his face until the other boy’s thumb wiped them away, careful to mind Steve’s injuries that he was responsible for.

Steve’s head throbbed, the ringing in his ear building and eyes blurring due to the tears and his left eye fully shutting. He hiccuped and sobbed, finally coming to terms with the news and his future.

But for now, he had Jonathan by his side and apparently Jim Hopper in his corner now.

Which is why, when Jim walked out that room with the doctors to give the two boys space and time to feel and be and some privacy. The last he saw was Jonathan bringing Steve in for a hug.

He made his way to the waiting room and found none other than Nancy Wheeler seated in one of the chairs. Head down, elbows resting on her knees, hunched and had guilty ridden all over her; he could practically smell self-hatred in the air around her.

How on earth was he going to break the news to her?

Should he be the one to tell her?

Shit.

TBC…

Tag List:

@jackiemonroe5512 @afewproblems @sensationalsunburst @conversationswithamillennial @ledleaf @raven1234321 @obliosworld @pansexuality-activated @brainsteddielyrotted @royjamie4eva @adaed5 @how-about-nah-honey

My apologies to those I couldn’t tag. I was unable to due to some error. I hope this instalment finds you and you enjoy. Thank you for the overwhelming support. <3

[your-friendly-neighbourh00d-fag]

i stand by my h*rringroves dni rule, sorry.

[foreverautumn89]

Spooky Speak easy

It's not always haunted attractions they go to. Sometimes its just Steve and Jonathan going to other Halloween/spooky themed 'haunts' like this speakeasy. They sat there for hours talking to each other and enjoying the decor, the comfy chairs, and scary spooky projections all around them. Taking time to appreciate all the art around them. Jonathan was so excited and mesmerized by all of it. Always having a deep appreciation for all the art.

Jonathan loved cuddling with Steve in this big comfy chair:

Every time Steve sees a throne he just has to sit there and enjoy feeling like a king. They sat in these thrones holding hands while looking lovingly at each other and talking excitedly about their plans for their haunted house adventure that night.

[babhard1]

[bylerpolls]

bylers, whats your favorite side ship from the older teens?

A) jonathan/nancy

B) robin/nancy

C) steve/nancy

D) robin/vickie

E) jonathan/argyle

F) steve/eddie

G) steve/jonathan

H) something else

(need this for a fic)